Backtown

Backtown

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Feb 28, 2013
mijn leven bestaat niet uit zonnen stralen en rozenblaadjes , het bestaat uit liefde , gevaar en wezens waar van je nooit had gedacht dat ze bestonden. Ik ben Serra ik ben 17 jaar oud en ik woon in een klein dorpje vlak bij Phoenix dat Backtown word genoemd. Mijn vader en moeder hebben hier hun huwlijksreis gevierd , wie zal dat ooit denken twee mensen van 25 jaar hier hun huwlijksreis vieren in dit klein afgelegen dorpje. Dat zo stil dat je de bladeren van de bomen hoor vallen. En dan juist in dit kleine dorpje beslissen ze te wonen als hun eerste babytje op aarde komt. Maar dit dorpje is niet zo ondschulig als het op het eerste oog lijkt, het draagt een donkeren kant met zich mee. En daar kwam Serra achter op de eerste dag van het nieuwe jaar.
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Astrid is running from a monster, the man who kidnapped her and forced her to breed his heirs. But she's escaped his clutches. Finding herself fleeing across countries with heavy baggage she finds her self dropped on the compound of the Viking Warriors by a glorious stroke of fate. Vidar has always dreamed of finding his Goddess, his other half. But what will he do when he finds out his destined other half has more than he ever bargained for. Will the great Vidar finally find love, or will Astrid fail in finding him? Read to find out... I can't move swiftly enough as I drop down to my knees to pick her up. Gazing at her face, I loop one arm under her knees, the other over her back. She's as cold as death, and barely conscious. Her pale grey eyes gaze at my with a strange combination of trust and terror. I gently pull her closer to me. "Shhh love, I got you now." "L-Liam..." Her voice shudders and her lips tremble, the cold has seeped through into her bones, and she's so tiny anyway she must be permanently cold. Walking towards the car for the baby I pull her closer to my chest. She's now flitting in and out of consciousness, but, as I hold her closer- hoping my body can give her some warmth- I feel the bump, small and distinct. Panic grips me. She's pregnant? But that baby can't be more than 9 months? In her white T-shirt I can see the bruises and cigarette burns littering her pale skin. Whatever has happened to her is beyond awful. But I'm here now. I've got her.

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